Page 47

I rolled my eyes at the pathetic counter, pointer finger finding the edge of my polish. “To hockey games, because they are required. Were you going to rock one of those tonight?”

He frowned, and I gave him a cocky “told you so” look.

Monroe stared at me for a few seconds before leaning down. “Fine. I’ll go change and see if you approve,” he said in my ear, breath tickling my skin. “Oh, I like the purple today.”

He pulled away, walking toward a hallway off the living room I’d missed.

My finger stilled where I’d been picking, pulse hammering in my throat loud enough that he could surely hear it.

Why was his noticing the color on my nails hot?

“Lay off the cologne while you’re at it. It smells bad, and you use too much.” I yelled the lie at his retreating back, needing to regain some sense of control.

He laughed.

An honest-to-god laugh, and my eyebrows nearly launched off my forehead.

“You’re full of shit, Graciella.” He threw a middle finger over his shoulder before disappearing.

I forced my feet toward the kitchen.

“You’re here to work, keep your chonies on,” I mumbled, opening cabinets to find a cup. Maybe water would cure my thirsty-bitch-syndrome.

“What are chonies?”

I yelped, pressing a hand to my pounding chest, barely stopping a string of very colorful language. Big blue eyes framed by a mess of blonde hair stared up at me.

“Oh my god, Goldie, you scared me. Well, uh…” I paused. “Chonies is how you say underwear in Spanish.”

“Why aren’t you wearing underwear?”

“What?” My brows pinched. “No, I didn’t sa⁠—”

“Daddy says we have to wear underwear and shirts,” she said, cutting me off with a little perplexed frown.

She climbed onto the stool at the island, and I shot forward to steady it as she lifted herself onto her little knees.

How are little kids so unconcerned with their safety?

“Are you supposed to have those?” I asked as she reached for the bowl of trail mix in the middle, conveniently far from any edges, which made me think she was not.

She shoved a handful of M&Ms into her mouth and shot me a chocolate-covered smile. Part of me considered telling her no, but, as Monroe pointed out, my babysitting shift didn’t start until five.

“What are you two doing?”

We jumped at his voice, staring at one another with wide eyes.

“Gracie’s not wearing any undies!” Goldie yelled out.

“What?” Monroe and I said simultaneously.

You’d think with all my younger cousins, I’d have remembered there was no loyalty amongst little kids.

My eyes were on her, but his were definitely on me. The side of my head was a million degrees hotter.

“That was not what I said, Goldie.” But I couldn’t hide my smirk, oddly proud of her.

She giggled.